


A Different Path

by Occultist



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greece, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Demigod Leedo, Greek Mythology - Freeform, M/M, Mortal Youngjo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 07:19:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21193778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Occultist/pseuds/Occultist
Summary: Geonhak was different.His father, Ares, had been too blind to see that his son did not take after him. Geonhak, radiant Geonhak, with his fair skin and golden hair found himself treading on an alternate path apart from his siblings. The boy refused to shed a single drop of blood, refused to inflict pain onto others and slipped away whenever his father searched for those who would follow him into battle.One day, he encounters an injured Youngjo. How could he possibly leave the mortal like that?





	A Different Path

**Author's Note:**

> If they do a mythology concept next comeback I will scream.
> 
> Apologies if this one isn't up to my usual writing quality, I just needed to get this out there. Please comment your thoughts :)

Geonhak was different. The muses had known, of course. One look at the child and his striking golden hair was more than enough to tell them of his differences. He would grow up to be strong and healthy but such is the way of all children descended from gods. 

His father, Ares, had been too blind to see that his son did not take after him. Geonhak, radiant Geonhak, with his fair skin and golden hair found himself treading on an alternate path apart from his siblings. The boy refused to shed a single drop of blood, refused to inflict pain onto others and slipped away whenever his father searched for those who would follow him into battle. 

It’s no secret among the gods that this child would be better off without his father. Fortune favored him, shielding the boy from Ares and preventing the blood lust deity from daring to punish him for not loving the act of war. Others would sing praises and bless him for his acts of kindness, thanking whomever it was that raised Geonhak. 

One particular day when his father had once again taken up arms and ridden his chariot into battle, he ventured out onto the mortal realm. He donned a plain tunic simply because he never liked to draw attention and soon found himself following a paved path. All was well until Geonhak encountered a youthful man face-down, seemingly unconscious. 

He had hair as dark as the night sky, tousled and sticking up in various places. Just off to the side is a hide shield, separated from its owner. Bits and pieces of a shattered spear are strewn around on the ground. Coupled with the boy’s tattered, damaged tunic it’s obvious that he’s a soldier. Crouching, Geonhak reaches to touch the top of the stranger’s head that was darkened by a fluid he couldn’t quite see while standing.

Warm. 

Blood, yes, but still alive. 

It would be against his nature to leave this fair-skinned stranger. Another glance at the scene told Geonhak all he needed to know; His father was here. This one seemed to have been separated from his comrades but perhaps that’s for the best because he wouldn’t have survived if that were the case. Just a little further away is where most of the carnage was.

So Geonhak whisks him away, carrying the youthful man to a location far from any mortals or gods. He took him to his home, an island where they would not be disturbed. A sanctuary, if you will. 

Here, he tended to the stranger’s wounds. He feared that the other would not wake up but he was happy to find out that his efforts were not in vain. Night had fallen when the soldier stirred, groaning and wincing at the wounds he had suffered. 

The ever-attentive Geonhak rushes over, beaming, delighted to see that he was alive. “How are you?” He asks, hands moving to gently touch the other’s forehead. No fever, a good sign. 

Youngjo squints, his vision blurry. He could make out another person leaning over him, their soft face showing concern for him. “Is this…” 

“Hades?” Geonhak smiles softly when he moves away to grab something. “No. You are alive and safe.” The soft sound of movement could be heard and Youngjo is guided to sit up by the soft hand on his back. If it weren’t for this mysterious blonde man that feat would’ve never been achieved on his own because his whole body aches in a way that robbed him of his movement. 

A ceramic cup is pressed his lips and Youngjo silently thanks him before tilting his head back just a bit to let the contents quench his thirst. Sweet. It was nothing like he ever tasted before- but there are a lot of things he has not had simply because he wasn’t born a royal.

The cup is taken away once he’s had enough. 

“If this is not hades, where am I?” Youngjo questions out loud after the comfortable silence had passed. “And who are you?”  
  
“My home.” Geonhak answers as he’s putting away the leftover bandages and ointment from replacing the other’s bandages earlier. “And I am Geonhak. I found you half-dead on the road earlier- I could not abandon someone in need of help. What about you, my dear soldier? Who might you be?”  
  
“Youngjo. My name is Youngjo. Thank you for saving me.”

* * *

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. Youngjo was not ashamed to admit that he had grown fond of his rescuer. Geonhak was kind to him, always willing to give whatever the other requested. He learned this firsthand when the blonde caught him reading a book of stories; when the soldier returned to his bed later that night he was surprised to see three more books sitting on top of the blanket.

Geonhak had explained everything to him while he was still recovering. He told him that he was the son of Ares- Youngjo doubted this at first simply because Geonhak was nice. Too nice to be the child of such a brutal god but the other merely shook his head. “I’m different.”

Different. It was a nice word, perhaps the only one that could capture his feelings for the other man. He liked it when they ate together, the silence they shared or the conversations that occurred at just the right time. Those feelings eventually grew stronger with every moment they shared and soon Youngjo wanted nothing more than to say he wanted this to last forever.

But there was only one problem.

Youngjo found himself missing home. It was nice here on this island but he noticed himself staring out into the ocean for hours lately. Geonhak knew, of course. He knew that he would never be able to keep the mortal here forever. 

When the other wasn’t looking, Geonhak quietly asked for a ship from one of his sea nymph admirers. He stocked the vessel with the best supplies- enough to last him a voyage and a few days after in case something happened. 

Youngjo thanked him with a kiss. One that caused the soldier to pull the other close, to snake a hand around his waist while the other gently held the back of his head. Neither of them had kissed before and Geonhak could only try to return the favor with a soft peck of his own. 

Perhaps they’ll learn how to properly kiss next time. 

The soft blush on the other’s face only makes him want to stall, to delay his leaving if it means he could see it all day. “You should come with me,” Youngjo tells him, voice low as he admires how precious Geonhak looks in his arms with that soft face of his. “We can leave together.”

It was silly of Youngjo to ask. He should’ve known that Geonhak would agree- it’s not like there was anything keeping him bound to the island in the first place. 

“Of course. Anywhere you go, I will follow.”


End file.
